


Somewhere to Belong

by Terrorbyrd



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F, Friendship, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-07
Updated: 2016-03-07
Packaged: 2018-05-25 06:06:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6183625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Terrorbyrd/pseuds/Terrorbyrd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Late one night, Harding finds Lavellan alone, sitting in the garden in Skyhold's courtyard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Somewhere to Belong

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Moontyger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moontyger/gifts).



The first night of the Inquisition’s occupation of Skyhold found Harding cutting across the courtyard during her third last-one-for-the-night perimeter check. The moon was approaching full, so despite the inadequacy of the torchlight from the ramparts, she had no trouble spotting a small shape sitting alone in the garden.

“Your Worship? What are you doing still up?”

Lavellan started at the unexpected sound and climbed to her feet, using her staff as a prop. “Scout Harding? I could ask you the same question.”

Startled but amused, Harding laughed and scuffed a foot against the ground. “You know me. You can never be too thorough.”

Lavellan picked her way across the garden carefully, closing the distance between them. “May I join you on your round, then? And please, just Lavellan – I don’t feel like anyone’s ‘your worship.’” When she reached the dwarf, the two of them continued towards the ramparts together. “To be honest, I couldn’t sleep. I’ve never spent much time inside large buildings.”

“You didn’t seem to have this problem at Haven,” Harding said with a touch of curiosity, slightly scandalized by the idea of calling the Herald by just her name.

“They gave me a small cabin there. That’s similar enough to an aravel, just stationary,” Lavellan explained. “Now they have me occupying most of a floor, and I don’t know what to do with all that empty space, trapped between stone walls.”

Harding was silent for a moment, picturing Lavellan alone in the massive bedroom they assigned her. “You know I was a shepherd, right?” she asked. “Ever since I was a girl, I’ve always preferred being out with the flock under the open sky than in my own bed under my parents’ roof. Just one more un-dwarfish thing about me, I guess.” She laughed drily. “I know Varric hates the outdoors.”

This time both women laughed. Skilled with a crossbow as he was, he never dressed appropriately for combat or nature, and by now the entire Inquisition probably knew how he felt about mud, snow, and greenery.

Their breaths misting in the chilly night air, Harding and Lavellan climbed the steps to the ramparts in a companionable silence. The former shepherd wondered what her life would’ve been if she had grown up with the Stone, or at least in a dwarfish community like Varric’s, and the Dalish elf wondered about a life born in the city, in an alienage.

Lavellan broke the silence first with a sigh. “Even in the garden, I didn’t feel like I was properly outside. The looming walls blocked out the stars, and even overgrown, the garden had clearly once been a manicured landscape… It didn’t feel right.” She sighed again, and slowed to a stop before leaning over the rampart wall, looking down into the garden in question.

Harding glanced over at the woman as she moved to join her. Lavellan’s face, usually so composed and calm, looked tired. But after the events at Haven, weren’t they all exhausted? “Do you miss your clan, Lady Lavellan?” While she herself had jumped at the opportunity to work for the Inquisition, she could understand how Lavellan, so far removed from her own people and culture, and not even willingly at that, might feel differently.

“I’m not homesick,” Lavellan responded, “if that’s what you’re asking. I can’t think of the words to explain how I feel.” If she noticed Harding’s compromise on the title, she didn’t react.

“Is it something like how most humans and city elves always think nature is quiet and peaceful, because they’ve never gone to sleep to the sounds of frogs peeping in the spring, or loons calling all night long in the summer?”

As if surprised by Harding’s change of direction, Lavellan looked down to meet her eyes with a thoughtful frown, almost seeming to scrutinize the shorter woman before she smiled wryly. “And they’ve never been awoken an hour before dawn by every damn bird in the forest? I think you’re onto something. It’s too quiet here, even for winter.” Shaking her head, Lavellan looked away from Harding to stare up at the bright moon and washed-out stars. “I don’t mean to complain, and I know I do good here, but I don’t feel like I belong. I don’t have anything in common with anyone here.”

“Not many Dalish in the Inquisition, huh? Well, there _is_ Dalish with the Chargers, but I’m pretty sure she isn’t much like you.”

“You know, I had forgotten about her. But it’s not about being surrounded by shemlen.” Lavellan paused, as if she were trying to come to a decision. “Actually, I take it back. There is someone here who makes me feel like I belong. I think part of me knew this since Haven, but I hadn’t been able to confirm it.”

In the silence that followed – and other than the occasional gust of wind, it _was_ eerily silent at Skyhold – Harding was sure the pounding of her heart would give her away. She sneaked a glance at Lavellan before returning to studiously examining the night sky. She had admired the Herald since they worked together in the Hinterlands – who wouldn’t, after all she did for the people there? – and though she had been successfully denying it, it was rapidly becoming apparent that perhaps what she felt went beyond simple admiration. But between being sent to the godawful Fallow Mire, followed immediately by the Storm Coast, and _then_ fleeing Haven upon return, she had not had time to dwell on it. In combination, the two of them had definitely been too busy to get together and talk beyond polite passing greetings. Until tonight, until now.

After a moment, Harding found her voice again. “I’m glad that’s the case,” she offered, cautiously. “It’s important to have someone who puts you at ease.”

“Yes, it is,” Lavellan agreed, sounding relaxed for the first time Harding could remember. Still looking up at the night sky, she brought her hand up to gently squeeze Harding’s shoulder. “I’m glad you found me tonight, Harding.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy this pre-relationship look at Harding and Lavellan!
> 
> (Also: did you know tiny frogs are fucking loud?)


End file.
